One woman's view: Clinging to fragments of the past
Contributing writer
For fourteen years I've been telling people I live "right across the street from the old high school." Now I live right across the street from a huge pile of rubble. Of course, soon it will be a pleasant little landscaped area, which I'm sure will be put to good use. Admitting freely the old structure was an eyesore and a hazard, I'm certainly not protesting its demise. But I'll miss it.
The move toward more and more consolidation in the mid-twentieth century left many once-fine buildings like that one to molder away. I wish more had been bought by entrepreneurs with vision who could have turned them into something worthwhile. Failing that I know demolition is the only answer. If the legislature decrees another wave of consolidation, we may have more derelict structures to raze in the future.
I suppose most of us cling to tokens from our past lives — some more than others, of course. My husband graduated from Tampa High, so on one of my afternoon walks I stopped and scrounged a brick for him as a souvenir. He was notably underwhelmed. I guess I'm a lot more into keepsakes than he is.
Even the city fathers recognize the human need for contact with the past. They arranged for the contractor to spare the stone parts of the building such as the cornerstone with the date of construction, a medallion above the door and the half moons under the second story arches. I suppose they'll be arranged in some sort of a memorial to remind us of the school.
When they tore down Old Main at Bethany College, students and alumni were allowed to buy bits of the place as souvenirs. I purchased a rectangular block with a sort of target design from the top of a doorjamb to use as a paperweight. I have never actually used it as a paperweight — or anything else. Every now and then I run across it and wonder why I haven't thrown it the trash long since. However, I know myself well enough to know I never will. They also used some of the materials from the building to create a little rest area called Old Main Court, which is valued by old grads, if not by present-day students who were born after that landmark's destruction.
What is this attachment we have to the past? Is it mentally healthy or a hindrance to growth? I'm not sure. Right now I am reading a book by Dr. Paul Meier called Don't Let Jerks Get the Best of You. He talks a lot about some of his patients carrying baggage from a troubled childhood into their adult lives which holds them back and prevents their attaining maturity.
On the other hand, he admits that we also carry into maturity some good baggage from childhood as well. While a person who was abused as a child may be unable to form healthy adult relationships, someone who was always loved, cherished and taught sound values is helped in all his later endeavors and relationships.
I have reached the age where great memories are some of my dearest pleasures. I cherish family heirlooms, old pictures and memories of my childhood playmates and my family. There is nothing wrong with that unless it prevents me from living in the present.
Even though it will be a long time before I step onto my front porch or go out in the yard without noticing a hole where the old school used to be, I'm not sorry it is gone. I eagerly anticipate whatever good things will replace it. Like many older people I may cling to the past a little more than is healthy. However, I don't feel I'm going too far wrong as long as I can still embrace the future with joy. Happy tomorrow to all!
